


one last time

by breathingjanuary (teenagefgt)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, I have no idea, M/M, and drarry at one point, and harry in slytherin, but like, hahahaha, harry is still a horcrux, its just that neville is the boy who lived, literally just neville as the boy who lived, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagefgt/pseuds/breathingjanuary
Summary: Harry Potter is just a normal wizard. Nothing special, not like the boy-who-lived, Neville Longbottom. The only thing that's probably slightly special about him is that he's the first Potter to be sorted into Slytherin. That's all, really.





	1. year one

He stood in the line with the other fidgeting first years, a proud smile on his face. Standing on his left is a boy far to short for his age, with straight black hair and intense blue eyes. When he first talked to the boy, his dark blue eyes made him squirm. On his right side is a gorilla-like body-guard for the blonde who radiates arrogance. The blonde boy is the only other first year who isn't showing signs of being nervous. Nail's are being bitten, lips are being chewed raw, eyes are bloodshot, tiny frames are trembling. Nobody looks at the same table for too long, terrified if that's going to be their rival house or the house they might fail in the seven years to come. He didn't blame any of them for being nervous, this moment would define their life path. It would choose their friends, their enemies, their identity.

A short girl with messy blonde curls beamed as she ran off to the cheering table decked in red and gold. _Gryffindor_. She was the first Gryffindor to be sorted of their year.

They boy beside him is trembling, and he can't help but wonder if he's a muggle-born. If he were pure blood then surely he has heard how the sorting process goes. It's not that nerve-wracking.

"Corner, Michael." said a strict voice.

A thin boy with wavy brown hair and light brown eyes stumbled forward and sat on the four-legged stool. A moment later, he's sitting beside a second year girl with long, curly blonde hair at the blue and bronze table. _Ravenclaw_. The next boy, Andrew Craft, joins Michael in Ravenclaw.

The burly kid standing beside him stumbled toward the green and silver table. _Slytherin_.

"Cross, Lucifer."

The trembling boy beside him gave a small squeak and shuffled up to the stool, terror sparkling in his blue eyes. It took a minute, but soon he's sitting beside the Slytherin prefect, Gemma Farley.

More names are being called and more first years are running off in different directions.

And then; "Longbottom, Neville."

Whispers erupt all over the hall.

"Longbottom?"

"Did she say Longbottom?"

"The Neville Longbottom?"

The Boy-who-lived's round face gets blocked from view by the old hat.

No house has given as big of a cheer as Gryffindor did when Neville Longbottom joined them.

Then it's Morag MacDougal strutting off to the table that reminded him of bumblebees. Black and yellow. _Hufflepuff_. Ernie MacMillin isn't that far behind Morag, sitting next to him at Hufflepuff.

"Malfoy, Draco." is called and the proud blonde is strutting off to the Slytherin table, taking the empty seat beside Lucifer Cross.

Before he even realized it, they had reached, "Petillo, Carter." who scrambled off to the Hufflepuff table to sit between Ernie and Morag.

Then it was, "Potter, Harry." being called and he walked up to the four-legged stool. He sat down, all eyes on him, and blinked himself into darkness. The sorting hat had slid over his eyes and a voice started mumbling in his ear. It mumbled about the thoughts swimming around in his head. About what house would help him on the path to greatness. About the thirst to prove himself that's making his throat dry up.

Almost all to fast, Harry Potter was walking toward the cheering Slytherin table. He slipped into the seat next to Theodore Nott, across from Lucifer and Draco. The prefect shook his hand and introduced herself, Gemma. She'll be gone in two years. Jess Winkle walked down a few seats to introduce himself also. He's the other Slytherin prefect, and he'll also be gone in two years.

The sorting ceremony continues and Daniel White joins Gryffindor and Blaise Zabini sits beside Harry.

The feast began after that and food appears on gold platters and the great hall slowly became too noisy.

Laughter echoes, hands are shook, teeth are flashing behind wide grins. The Great Hall fills to the brim with the murmurs of too many conversations happening at once. Harry nodded along to what Blaise was saying and smiled at Lucifer and Draco when they glance at him. He hummed in response to Theo's ramblings and raised an eyebrow at Gemma. He slowly added one bite after another in his mouth until an obnoxious laugh carried across the hall, far too loud to his ears. It carried through the stuffy air and reminded Harry of where he was.

He will never remember how he got to the first floor bathroom so fast, but he had his head in the toilet either way. Everything he ate in the day is burning his throat as it works it's way out his mouth again, mixed with stomach acid. Harry coughed and he spluttered, but now that it's started, his stomach won't stop releasing everything it's been trying to digest. Tears well up in Harry's emerald eyes as his stomach lurched again. Then there's a warm hand on his back, and a cold one taking off his glasses. There's a tan one holding a phial in front of his face and that same cold one that took off his glasses is now on his wet cheek, tilting his head back. Glass touched his lips and liquid slid down his throat. The potion dropped into his abusive stomach and it lurched again. Harry thought, for a moment, he'll start barfing again, but instead, his stomach took pity on him and settled down. It must've been the potion.

His glasses are held in front of his face, so he took them with a trembling hand and slipped them on his face again.

Is this going to be a regular occurrence?" said a kind voice, no sarcasm, no venom. Just concern.

Harry turned slightly and saw the warm face of Slytherin prefect, Jess. He beamed at Harry then stood up. Harry's head fell forward, though, due to pure exhaustion, and his eyes droop shut. His shoulders sag, and he very vaguely hears Jess sigh. Two hands slip under his arms and hoist him to his feet.

"I'm not proud of this." Harry mumbled as he drags his feet out of the cubicle. Standing there, waiting patiently, eyes glued to the tiled floor, is Draco and Lucifer. em'They must of been the other people helping me?'/em Harry thought.

"It's a sickness." he mumbled again, not sure who he's talking too. His mind was foggy with exhaustion and he wasn't quite registering what he was saying before it tumbled past his lips. Lucifer stepped forward uneasily and threw Harry's right arm around his shoulder. Harry unconsciously leaned onto Lucifer and nodded lazily when Draco asked, "So, this _is_ going to be a regular occurrence?"

* * *

Later that night, Harry laid wide awake in the first year Slytherin dorms, thinking about what his parents would say once they find out that he's a Slytherin. His mother was a Gryffindor and so were all of the Potter's in history.

The taste of vomit still lingered at the back of Harry's throat.

The fire died out in the dorm an hour ago, leaving the room bathed in an eerie green glow. Being in the dungeons meant living under water. The pale moonlight shone through the black lake, and the polluted water of the lake changed the shades of the natural light.

Harry slid off his bed and placed his feet gingerly on the cold floor. He grabbed his wand and lazily cast a tempus charm. Glowing green numbers dance in front of his eyes; 2:02am.

Vincent Crabbe and his best friend, Gregory Goyle, who also resembles a gorilla, snore to loudly to be human. Blaise is mumbling in his sleep and Lucifer is purring. The purring is louder to Harry than anything else, but Harry thinks it's probably because Lucifer's bed is beside his.

As quietly as he can, Harry walked over to his trunk and pushed everything out of the way.

At the very bottom of his trunk is a watery silver-like material. Harry gripped the silk fabric, grabbed a piece of parchment and quill and stood up. He threw the cloak around his shoulders, clipped it from the inside and pulled the hood up.

Just like that, Harry was invisible, protected by the enchantments that is the Invisibility Cloak his father gave him.

The door creaked open as he left but the only person to stir at the sound was Draco.

He almost got lost, but Harry made it to the owlry by 2:36am He called down Hedwig, his snowy owl, and pulled out his self inking quill and the small piece of parchment he pocketed before. He pulled off his cloak, and Hedwig perched herself on his shoulder, and nipped at his ear affectionately. He smiled and stroked her, apologizing for not bringing a treat. Then, he walked up to the window sill, and wrote a few simple words down on his paper,

_Mom, dad, I've been sorted into Slytherin. Don't be disappointed, please. I've made really good friends so far. I'm really happy. Neville is a Gryffindor. - Harry._

He folded the worn parchment in half and gave it to Hedwig. She hooted, clamped it between her beak and took off through the window after hearing who the letter was for.

When Harry got back to the dorm, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, feeling like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

* * *

The first potions lesson of the year made Harry want to laugh so hard he nearly cried. Professor Snape, the potions master, is absolutely terrifying, but he's also head of Slytherin House. Therefore, he favoured those in Slytherin house.

While Snape was doing attendance at the beginning of class, he stopped at Neville's name, and sneered, "Neville Longbottom, our new celebrity."

They were listening to the potions masters long speech intently, until he caused them all to jump out of their skins by barking at Neville, "Longbottom! Tell me, where would I find a bezoar?"

The buck-toothed girl sitting behind him stuck her hand up in the air instantly. She bounced on her stool and wiggled her fingers, but Snape didn't even glance at her.

"I don't know, sir." whimpered Neville.

Harry almost snorted; even he knew this.

Snape hummed and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk. Neville visibly shrank backwards.

"Let's try this again, shall we? What's the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"I don't know, sir." Neville repeated.

Snape tilted his head to the side slightly, glaring down his hooked nose at the-boy-who-lived. He then spun around with a flourish of his black robes, strode to the front and stared down at the class.

"It seems," he drawled, "that fame isn't everything. You would find a bezoar in the stomach of a goat, emMr. Longbottom/em, and the only difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane is their name. They are physically the same plant. Write that down." his black eyes narrowed, and swept over the class. The sound of books banging against books, rustling fabric, buttons popping and zippers being unzipped filled the air as the students dug around their bags for a quill and parchment.

Instead of writing down what he already knows, Harry wrote down;

" **I'm going to piss my pants from laughing** " and shoved it closer to Lucifer, who was sitting beside him. Lucifer's eyes briefly scanned over the words before he snorted quietly and wrote back, " **Yeah, until it's you that's he's totally hating on**."

Harry dragged the paper under the desk, lit it a flame with a twist of his wrist and mumbled out of the corner of his mouth; "True."

* * *

The glass ball glittered as Theo Nott held it up to the sunlight.

It's the first flying lesson of the year, and the boy-who-lived, Neville Longbottom, doesn't know how to ride a broom. Twenty feet up in the air, Neville fell of his old broom and broke his wrist. No one was impressed with this, at all, seeing as his mother, Alice Longbottom, was one of the best Gryffindor chasers when she was at Hogwarts. The flying instructor with the yellow eyes and sort grey hair dragged him off to the hospital wing.

He just happened to have dropped his Remembrall.

Ron Weasley, one of the many Weasley Gryffindors stormed up to Theo and demanded, "Oi! Give that back, Nott!"

Theo gripped the ball and dropped his hand to his side. He turned around and looked at Ron calmly, not answering.

In his hand, the smoke in the Remembrall faded to red.

Harry strode up to Theo's side, abandoning his conversation with Lucifer and Blaise. He raised an eyebrow at Ron and replied; "And why should he give it back, Weasley?"

"Because it's Neville's." seethed Ron, face turning as red as his hair. His voice trembled from frustration. He really hates Slytherin's.

"I bet that buffoon already forgot he had it." Theo drawled, and looked down at the ball in his hand. He sneered at the ball, not liking the fact that he forgot something. Before Harry even had a chance to comprehend what he was doing, Theo spun on his heels and threw the ball at the wall. It shattered on impact, and a puff of red-tinted grey smoke danced in the air for a moment before evaporating.

"Bloody hell!" yelled Ron, throwing his arms up in his frustration, "Are you insane? _Bloody Slytherins._ " his hands curled into fists, but he walked away before he could give into temptation and punch Theo in the face.

Theo watched him trudge off to the group of Gryffindor's for a second before shrugging and walking back to Draco, Lucifer and Blaise. Harry stepped up beside him, and asked in a low whisper; "What in the name of Merlin was that?"

"I never forget anything." was Theo's only reply, light brown eyes swirling to nearly black from anger.

* * *

All through the year, Harry always had a feeling that there was something wrong with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell. He always wore a purple turban, always smelt like garlic and always stuttered.

However, when Harry heard the rumor about what happened in the dungeons, and how Neville Longbottom faced off with Quirrell and how Voldemort was attached to him or his soul or _whatever_ , he thought it made sense.

That doesn't mean he was anymore happy with Gryffindor beating Slytherin and winning the house cup at last minute, though.

* * *

On the train ride home from Hogwarts, Lucifer was more quiet than normal.

Harry was sitting with him, Theo, Blaise, and Draco but no one else seemed to notice his silence. Harry was smiling and nodding along with the three other boys but his eyes kept traveling over to Lucifer.

As the sun began to set, Harry stood up, told them he needed to stretch his legs and asked if Lucifer would like to come. The quiet boy shrugged and stood up and Harry, just as he was about to slide the door shut behind him, heard Blaise, Theo and Draco pick up their conversation before Harry interrupted them. Not a single one noticed Lucifers change in character.

They walked in silence for a while, Harry and Lucifer, until Harry said, rather bluntly, "You don't want to go home." without glancing at Lucifer.

"Exactly." answered Lucifer with no hesitation.

"Then don't." Harry glanced at Lucifer quickly.

"Why?"

"What's the point?"

"There's no point in - "

"Why not?"

"Where would I go?

"My parent's wouldn't mind."

It was like they were having two different conversations until Harry said this. Lucifer closed his mouth so fast his jaw popped. He looked at Harry and said quietly, "If I move somewhere else, they'll know I told someone."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"You don't know them." Lucifer's voice was slightly unsettling.

Harry turned around, and started to head back to their compartment, not saying anything. He may not know Lucifer's parents, but he knows of them, and in his opinion, Lucifer shouldn't live there. He shouldn't even be allowed to have contact with them.

"Maybe when I'm older." Came Lucifer's voice, from Harry's left.

"You shouldn't live there, at all. They're monsters."

" _They're family_."

"No! They aren't!" Harry stopped abruptly and faced the slightly shorter boy, "If they treat you like they do, they are not family. They're no better than Voldemort." Lucifer flinched at the name, which went unnoticed by Harry. Lucifer raised his eyes and met Harry's unwavering green gaze. Harry could see all the gears working behind Lucifer's gaze, all the thoughts running around, screaming and echoing in his ears, all the despair shattering like glass and hope building up slowly like a brick wall.

Tears burned behind Lucifer's eyes and he rubbed at them furiously with the heels of his palms. Harry clapped a hand to his back and started to usher him back to the compartment, his arm around Lucifer's shoulder.

They reached platform 9 and 3/4 not long after that, and Harry beamed at his parents. He said goodbye to Draco, Blaise and Theo, and frowned at Lucifer. His parents looked horribly unpleasant and Draco also seemed bothered by the fact that Lucifer didn't look back at them or say goodbye.


	2. year two

" _You're insane!_ "

These words echoed off the stone walls and bounced off the black walls of his mind. His green eyes narrowed at Theo and bared his teeth in an ugly scowl. It wasn't the first time he's been called insane. However, it was the first time it wasn't a joke.

"And how are you going to prove that?" he hissed.

Theo's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in disbelief, "You're hearing voices in the bloody walls!" He spluttered.

"So is Neville Longbottom. Are you going to run off and tell the stupid boy-who-lived that he's insane too? Or do you just say that to your friends?" He drawled, voice as cold as ice, posture straightening.

"Yeah, actually, I would tell Longbottom he's off his bloody rocker and I'd tell him so are you so you can run off and be bloody mental with him instead of wasting my time!"

Now that hurt. After all they went through in their first year at Hogwarts, even though it wasn't much, that may have gone a bit too far. Was he really wasting Theo's time? His stomach clenched from nerves and anxiety and in a blur of colours, Harry was leaning over a toilet, tasting his stomach acid once again.

Footsteps pounding on the tile floor told Harry that Theo followed him. The door to the cubicle he was in swung open and Theo instantly dropped to his knees beside Harry. He took off Harry's glasses and started rubbing circles on his back while mumbling out how sorry he was.

It wasn't really his fault. They may have been fighting but really, Harry's sickness wasn't Theo's fault. He didn't purposefully trigger it. It's all just nerves and panic, and anxiety.

 _But if it weren't for this_ , Harry idly thinks as he heaves again, _I wouldn't have the control that I do._

* * *

In Harry's opinion, Gildroy Lockhart is an air-headed fool, and Snape should be the one calling Lockhart his assistant. Gildroy Lockhart is Hogwarts new Defense Against the Darks Art teacher, now that Quirrell is dead.

This year, though, so far the caretakers cat, Mrs. Norris and a Gryffindor had both been petrified by an unknown source and Lockhart decided to talk to Dumbledore and start a duelling club. For protection.

Blaise and Lucifer had thought it would be a good idea to drag Harry along, with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle following. Theo has taken up the habit of avoiding Harry since their argument. It doesn't really bother Harry much, because he hasn't heard _that_ voice in a while and what kind of friend is Theo to say those things to him?

Lockhart started to pair people up to duel against each other and Harry was unfortunate enough to get partnered with the obnoxious boy-who-lived.

Neville met Harry's cold glare, shuddered and looked over his shoulder at Lockhart. He asked if he could have a different partner, but Harry would have none of that. He called over to Neville; "Scared, Longbottom?"

Neville slowly looked back at Harry, drew in a deep breath, and walked forward. Harry met him halfway, smirked, and gave him an over-exaggerated mock bow, crossing his feet, and tilting his head down, and flipping open his robes. He could hear some students snickering.

He vaguely registered Neville bowing to him, also. It was a small nod, though, terrified and offended by Harry's sarcasm.

Lockhart counted down to three but Harry couldn't wait. Before Lockhart finished saying 'three' he had pointed his wand and pronounced, "Rictusempra" under his breath, eyes narrowed. A jet of silver light hit Neville in the stomach and he doubled over, wheezing. Lockhart was yelling about 'disarming only' as Neville sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a tickling jinx, and he could barely move for laughing. Harry was a good sport, he wouldn't hex Neville while he was down. Snape lazily removed the jinx, and Neville stood up, gasping, and glaring at Harry.

After a few moments of Lockhart skittering through the crowd and trying to help, he decided to choose a pair of students to demonstrate a blocking charm to the rest of the students.

Snape picked Neville and Harry.

The crowd backed away as the two boys were ushered to the middle of the hall. Lockhart was talking to Neville, who looked quite uneasy. Snape moved closer to Harry and bent down to whisper in his ear.

Harry smirked.

Lockhart counted down again, after the two of them gave a half-assed bow, and Harry quickly pointed and shouted out; "Serpensortia!"

There was a small blast and a long black snake erupted from Harry's wand. It slithered along, flicked it's tail and hissed menacingly. Neville watched it for a moment, eyebrows furrowed before Lockhart exclaimed that he'll get rid of it, and sent it twenty feet in the air. It fell to the floor with a dull thud and, more angered than before, shot towards the closest student, a Hufflepuff named Justin Finch-Fletchey. It raised itself in a fighting stance and that was when Neville stepped forward, eyes wide and hissing. His voice was disoriented but Harry understood that he was telling the snake to leave Justin alone.

Harry scowled, and turned to the now slumped to the floor snake; " _Yes_ ," he said, " _Go after the boy trying to boss you around, why don't you?_ " he said sarcastically.

The snake turned to Harry, flicked it's long tongue, and coiled around to face Neville, who was staring wide-eyed at Harry, his jaw on the floor. The snake lunged, baring it's fangs.

Snape stepped forward then, and vanished the snake, mid-lunge, with an easy flick of his wand. His black eyes were narrowed at both Harry and Neville, calm and calculating. Putting pieces of the puzzle together.

* * *

"I told you!" yelled Harry, "I didn't actually think the blasted thing would listen to me!"  
Lucifer gaped at him for a moment, eyebrows raised. He looked over his shoulder at the closed door of the second year boy's dormitory and then turned back to Harry.

"Of course the thing would listen to you! You were speaking Parsletongue!" He yelled back.

"I'm not a damn descendant of Salazar Slytherin! I can't speak the fucking language!"

"But. You. Were!" Lucifer punctuated every word.

"Where would I have learnt Parsletongue?" asked Harry, emerald eyes nearly black from anger.

"You never know, maybe you are a descendant of Slytherin. Do you know your family history?" retorted Lucifer, sounding remarkably calmer from a second before, but his blood was still boiling.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I _do_ know my family history. I'm not a Slytherin. I don't know how I spoke Parsletongue!" Harry threw his hands up in frustration, and turned around. Lucifer put a hand on his hip and pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed. He sighed and said; " _What are you, then?_ " defeat evident in his smooth voice.

* * *

Hermione Granger, second year Gryffindor, and best friends with Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley, had been petrified. The Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had been cancelled because of this. They never cancel Quidditch.

Instead of going to the Quidditch game and learning of this disappointment there, Harry fire called his godfather from the fire place in the common room when it was only him and Draco there. Sirius Black's head appeared in the green flames and Draco knelt on the floor beside Harry.

"Hello, Sirius!" Harry grinned.

"Hello, Harry! Draco! Great to hear from you. Something you need?" asked Sirius, as happy as ever.

"Actually, yes. I was wondering... If you knew that I could speak... Parsletongue.." Harry was slow in saying this, hesitant, and trying to not look at Sirius and yet watching for his reaction at the same time. Sirius said nothing, so he continued; "And I was wondering if you knew how.. I can speak it, I mean.. And, don't tell my parents about this conversation, please. I don't know what they would think of it."

Sirius only frowned. Draco's silver eyes never left Siruis' face, watching his emotions as intently as he could, because Harry wasn't doing that.

"I'm sorry, Harry. My assumptions on that topic may be wrong, and you are far to young to know about all that anyways. Your parents will tell you when they feel it is necessary." Said Sirius, suddenly not so happy, and far too sophisticated for Harry to deem normal. He ran a hand through his long hair, and sighed "If that is all, I have to be going." and with that, Sirius disappeared and Harry just sat there, blinking.

* * *

Harry sat at the Slytherin table, eyes trained on the boy-who-lived at Gryffindor. The hall was filled to the brim with noise as Gryffindor was awarded the house cup. Again. Lucifer elbowed Harry in the side, grinning, and told Harry to lighten up. Harry sighed. Lucifer was right. What's done is done. Harry can't go back to before Neville fought that blasted Basilisk in Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, and change things.

Ever since Longbottom came to Hogwarts, followed by his stupid House-cup-winning adventures, Slytherin has always been second.

It's really getting on Harry's nerves.


	3. year three

There was a lot of commotion going on outside the train compartment that Harry, Draco, Lucifer and Pansy Parkinson were all sitting in. Pansy, a hard-faced Slytherin girl in their year, grinned and stood up. She turned to Draco, grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the compartment, gleeful in the opportunity for new gossip. Draco glanced back at Harry and Lucifer, pleading with his eyes to at least come with, if they wouldn't attempt to get her away from him. So, Lucifer and Harry got up and followed the pair.

A Seventh year Ravenclaw had a seventh year Slytherin, that Harry recognized but at the moment, he couldn't recall the name, pushed against the wall. They were fighting, yelling out obscenities to each other that Harry couldn't understand because they just kept yelling over one another. The only part he did understand was when the Ravenclaw reached past the Slytherin and popped open the train door.

Wind rushed into the hallway immediately and Harry had to grab hold of the door frame to balance himself against the pull. The Ravenclaw grabbed the robes of the Slytherin, slammed him against the wall once, then pushed him out the door. Lucifer and Draco both covered their mouths. Pansy shrieked, along with many other watching girls. Harry's eyebrows rose, and he continued to watch on unlike other people. Before the doomed Slytherin lost his balance completely on the threshold of the doorway, he grabbed hold of the Ravenclaw's wrist and dragged him out the moving train with him.

Harry stepped forward, slowly, dragging his feet so the wind itself wouldn't tear him out the door, too. His knuckles were white with how tightly he was gripping the window frame. When he got close to the door, he leaned forward a bit, and pulled it back with an easy thought up summoning spell, _accio door,_ and locked it.

Then, it was silent.

* * *

Jess Winkle never got to graduate, which was unfortunate. His grades were nothing worse than Outstandings. He had been the Slytherin prefect, since he was fifteen, and was appointed Head Boy for his Seventh year. He was the one person who broke all the stereotypes for Slytherin house, with his smile that could light up a room. It was a pity, the way he had die. Doing his seventh year was always something he looked forward, too, because he was excited for the new classes. It's a tragedy that he didn't even get to see the magnificent castle one last time, or say any good byes.

They held a memorial for him on the first day of school.

* * *

James Potter gave his son the Marauders Maps when he turned thirteen, because James was thirteen when he made the map with Sirius, Remus and Peter. When James had walked into Harry's room, that one day during summer break, and dropped the blank, worn piece of parchment onto the desk, Harry looked at him like he was insane. James had grinned at him, lopsidedly, and said "Don't look at me like that! It's a wrench, giving this too you, but I'm no longer at Hogwart's anyway..." he had trailed off at that, and his hazel eyes unfocused. He stared blankly at the parchment for a moment, Harry studying him curiously. Then he shook himself back into reality and said; "You should think this is an honor, getting this map!"

"Map?" Harry asked, disbelievingly.

"Yes, map!" Scoffed Harry's father. Then he pulled his wand from his pocket, touched the worn parchment with the tip and said; "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And right before Harry's eyes, like a spider weaving a web, names and footsteps appeared, and passageway's and corridor's crawled across the parchment..

Harry was standing in the middle of the third year boy's dormitory, holding the Marauder's Map in his hands, tapping his foot. No one else is in the dorm with him, all of them are in the Common Room. Except for Draco.

Draco has been missing for the past few hours now, since around dinner. He wasn't even there for the whole meal, leaving half way through it, to go to the Common room and then leaving the Common Room before anyone else got back. At first, Harry wasn't worried, because Draco had been acting different all through the year, and Harry figured he was just dealing with something that would blow over. He just didn't expect him to disappear.

"Aha!" Harry shouted, straightening out the map more. Then he shifted his eyes toward the door, and tensed up a bit, hoping no one downstairs heard that.

Draco was in the Astronomy tower.

Pansy was making her way down the stairs, probably wanting to get back before curfew hit.

Draco was still not moving, just standing on the ledge of the window. Harry folded up the map, pulled off his Slytherin sweater and took off toward the Astronomy tower. The fires are dimmed, and his footsteps echoed remarkably in the empty, dry corridors. He passed Pansy, but she only glared at him.

Everyone knew that Pansy had a massive crush on Draco, but he didn't even look her way twice. He didn't even really like her as a person.

Harry placed a silencing charm on himself, specifically his shoes, after she was a few steps behind him, so no one could hear him. There isn't one of those on Pansy. Her heels clicked obnoxiously loud as she strode back to the Slytherin Common Room.

Once he was far enough from her, Harry pulled the map from his back pocket, checked where she is, which is in the dungeons now, and checked on Draco, who still hasn't moved. Harry frowned at Draco's name.

The metal stairs creaked under Harry's weight, so he ran up them, trying to put as little pressure on them as possible.

The door to the tower was ajar when Harry reached the landing, so he gingerly pushed it open and winced when it squeaked slowly. Draco whipped around, wand in hand, looking frantic, eyes ablaze and alert. When he realized it was just Harry intruding, and standing in the now open doorway, he relaxed, put his wand away and turned back around to face the horizon.

"How did you find me?" his quiet voice traveled through the chill night air, void of emotion.

"Pansy did, so why not me?" Replied Harry.

"How'd you know Pansy was here?"

Harry hesitated, mentally debating if he should tell Draco about the map or not. No one knows about it yet, at school at least. The silence dragged on far too long, Harry noticed, so he stupidly blurted out, "Map." his voice cracking.

"A Map?" Draco confirmed, voice smooth.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" Harry changed the subject, mentally noting to explain the map later.

"Debating."

"Debating what?" Harry stepped away from the door and walked up to Draco. The moonlight is cold and Draco's alabaster skin looked silver under it. A tentacle belonging to the giant squid slowly rose from the black lake, and stretched. It's soon joined by another one, and then a short one, breaking the surface. Ripples broke across the onyx surface of the lake, due to the disturbance of the tired tentacles. It was a relaxing view.

"Jumping."

If anyone were to look at Harry Potter at that moment, he would come across as emotionless. Unphased. And at first, he is unphased by this statement. Until the words really sink into his skin and he really got the meaning and then he still looked calm about the fact that his best friend is contemplating suicide. But inside, he was freaking out, having a mental break down. That's the only thing that can explain what Harry's doing - completely mentally breaking down.

Harry would like to call this a _moment_ between him and Draco but it doesn't feel like. Not with the unspoken explanation of suicide even being an option lingering in the air between them. It taints everything.

And even though Harry got Draco down from the window and back to the dorms, he was still uneasy. He had Draco in his bed, because he was paranoid and wasn't sure if Draco would leave later in the night to fulfill his momentary desires. He wouldn't let the boy leave his view. Harry doesn't sleep that night.

* * *

His third year at Hogwarts was the first year Slytherin won the house cup since he started attending the magical school. No one cheered except the Slytherin's.

But he didn't cheer as loud, or smile as bright when they won. He didn't clap as long or congratulate people.

No, Harry wasn't as happy as he could've been about winning, because beside him, Draco wasn't even smiling.


	4. year four

It's a known fact across Hogwarts that Ron Weasley wasn't talking to Neville Longbottom at the moment. Not ever since Longbottom's name shot out of the Goblet of Fire. But seeing Weasley humiliate Longbottom in front of what seemed like the entire school was a whole different story.

Who knew that Weasley, of all people, would have the guts to humiliate his supposed 'best friend'? Harry could only blink and stare at the red faced boy-who-lived until Draco grabbed his elbow and dragged him off. Harry heard Longbottom sigh, a sigh that sounded as if it came from somewhere deeper than his lungs.

Harry didn't feel bad for him, not in the least. As a matter of fact, Harry and Draco stayed up all night last night creating badges that read about Cedric Diggory being the true Hogwarts Champion, and if you pressed the badge into your chest slightly, they change to read "Longbottom Stinks." It was Draco's idea, Harry just helped in the making of them. But it's true, apparently in more than half of the schools opinion, because many of the students were wearing the badges now.

Cedric Diggory is the true Hogwarts Champion for the Triwizard Tournament, not Longbottom.

* * *

"Tense, Longbottom?" called Harry, a smirk on his face as Longbottom rushed by. His feet were fast and his shoulders were hunched, his entire body stiff. Yeah, he was tense.

Draco jumped out of the tree Harry was standing in front of with a few other friends. He took a step, and slipped between Lucifer and Harry.

Longbottom stopped and turned abruptly, glaring daggers at them.

"You see," Harry continued when he didn't get an answer, and he took a couple slow steps closer, his smirk growing, "Malfoy and I have a bet."

Theo and Blaise's attention were locked in a heated argument with each other before now. Their attention has averted to Harry, curious.

Draco smirked, "Potter here doesn't think you'll last ten minutes in this tournament." he drawled from behind Harry.

"He disagrees, of course." scoffed Harry, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder to gesture at Draco, "Malfoy doesn't think you'll last five."

Longbottom growled, a disturbing and odd sound vibrating from the back of his throat. Then, he turned on his heels, and strode away, not saying a word.

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the way they got under Longbottom's skin like that. He doesn't think he'll ever forget that unfamiliar murderous look on Longbottom's face for that split second. He'll never be more mad than when Draco and Harry team up against him. They're in tune with each other, always knowing the others thoughts, somehow. Truly, a force to be reckoned with.

* * *

Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened his posture. he wanted more than anything to lean on Lucifer but he felt as though that'll show signs of weakness, and he isn't weak. Not even when he's hacking up his stomach because of his anxiety.

But Lucifer had his arm around his waist, so he leaned on him a bit while mindlessly vanishing the vomit behind the tree.

There's chatter and cheers emitting from the stadium that is the Quidditch pitch. Harry sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head on Lucifer's shoulder. He really doesn't want to go back in there, but his friends are all in there, expecting him to sit with them, and feel okay. He never feels okay in loud, large places.

Lucifer dropped his arm as Harry took his own weight again, and asked if he thought he would be okay to go back. Harry nodded, thinking that he's getting older, he should be able to pull his shit together.

They slowly made their way back toward the stadium in silence, but they stayed standing at one of the entrances, instead of climbing the bleachers to their spots with Draco, Blaise, Theo and Pansy. They watched the last champion, Fleur Delacour, enter the maze.

A couple of minutes after the silver-haired girl disappeared in the looming green walls, Draco silently joined them, and took refuge beside Harry.

"Feeling better?" he asked, not even glancing at Harry.

With a sigh, Harry said, "Much."

"Will it ever stop?"

"I can only hope, I guess."

Beside Harry, Lucifer sighed irritably and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What?" snapped Harry, turning his head fast to face Lucifer.

"There are pills to make it stop, both wizard and muggle." suggested Lucifer.

"I don't believe in medication." Harry stated, voice more confident than he suddenly felt.

"Why not?" asked Draco.

"It really only makes things worse." before they got a chance to question him any further, Harry turned and left. Lucifer and Draco both gaped at his retreating form for a moment before Draco shook himself and pulled Lucifer away. Lucifer hesitated to go with Draco for a brief moment, because he wanted to call after Harry, tell him to come back, to trust him, to talk to him.

But Draco tugged at him and said, "It's best if he has some time alone right now."

The truth is, Harry's mother has had an addiction to these muggle pills for a couple years. Since the year before Harry first started at Hogwarts, as a matter of fact. She has overdosed a few times, and he's come home during breaks to find that she was in the Hospital and it was just going to be him and his father for the time. It's been hard on him, and sometimes he wants to rip her throat out so she can't swallow the pills that are killing her anymore.

Her skin has gone from glowing healthy pale to ashen grey. Her bones protrude from her paper thin skin because the only thing she ever consumes are these tiny white pills. Harry and his father don't even know what they are or where she gets them. All they know is they're killing her, and she's threatened to kill them before at the suggestion of getting help or taking the pills away.

Harry sometimes wonders what could have driven the beautiful and bright Lily Potter to do something like that to herself, but when he thinks about everything she went through during the war all those years ago, he stops wondering. It's hard to live with memories like that. She probably just wanted some form of escape, and found it in the wrong place,

Harry decided he didn't want to be anywhere at the moment.

It's times like these he just wants to disappear.

* * *

Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum had emerged from the Enchanted Maze already, surprisingly still sane. They're standing with their friends, and the crowd had only just quieted down from Viktor's return when Harry slipped into a spot beside Pansy Parkinson. She was sitting with a couple other girls in Slytherin in front of Theo, Lucifer, Draco and Blaise.

Lucifer beamed when Harry turned around to smile at the four of them. Absolutely beamed.

But then there was a crack that pierced the air and it quieted the crowd to a dead silence and Cedric Diggory stumbled out of the maze, his eyes haunted and face pale under the dirt and grime. In his arms was an unconscious Longbottom and everyone broke out into cheers and song and applause.

Until Fleur let out a blood curdling scream.

And Cedric dropped the limp body on the ground. He fell to his knees beside Neville, hyperventilating, and burying his face in his hands. Harry only vaguely registered Lucifer whispering, "Oh, Merlin, no." before everything sped ahead.

Draco's breath hitched and he lost his balance to a buckled knee. People started screaming and crying, and rushing off the bleachers to get a better look and the band stopped playing their instruments. Harry had to swallow his rising vomit before turning around to slip his hands under the arms of Draco, He hoisted him to his feet, grabbed his arm, and started down the bleachers.

Draco's grey eyes were red and dry, Harry noticed as he dragged the blonde out of the busy stadium. All he could think about was what possibly could be going through Draco's mind at this very moment.

* * *

The rolling hills covered in calming green, the forests' lining the horizon - standing tall against the cloudless sky, the cattle roaming free in the seemingly endless fields. It all rushed by in a blur as Draco and Harry sat across from each other in the otherwise empty compartment. Lucifer, Blaise, Theo and Pansy were in another compartment somewhere else on the train.

The reason why Draco and Harry were alone? Neither of them quite knew.

Was it uncomfortable? Neither could tell.

It was silent, with only the distant sound of clinking metal and the woman selling sweets asking with her wispy voice, "Anything from the trolly, dears?"

Harry and Draco knew she would be reaching their compartment soon, but neither wish to speak at the moment. They've come to a silence that they haven't experienced before. They don't know what it'll be like if it's broken, but it won't be the same. Not awkward, or stiff, or uncomfortable. Just different.

It won't be the silence that will breathe for you when you seem to forget how to drag the air into your lungs. It won't cry for you when you're at your weakest and you just need too, but you know it's a cowardly thing sometimes and you wish you just didn't forget how to cry. It won't speak the words you can't get out of your dry throat. It won't listen to you at 4 am when you don't know who else to go to or what else to do.

Harry knew he wanted to question Draco, but he couldn't think of the right questions.

She was at the compartment next to theirs now, asking "Anything from the trolly, dears?" And thankfully, they said yes, so that will occupy her for a moment. Harry can't help but wonder if she ever gets tired of saying that over and over. But it's hard to imagine her doing anything else.

And then she was sliding open their compartment door, with loud creaks from the slightly rusted metal and she was asking again if they would like "anything from the trolly, dears?"

Harry looked away from Draco, to smile at her and say, "No thank you," with a nod, and the only thought he had was, 'well, fuck.'

He wondered if it was to late to continue with the silence, but the door was sliding back in place and Harry was looking back at Draco, who's now staring back at him. His eyes watch the movement of his hand as Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose. Then Draco reached over and pulled them off his face, and Harry's world goes so blurry that it's almost like looking through frosted glass. He can't see Draco, but he heard him say, "I can fix your vision, you know." quietly.

"Can you?" asked Harry lightly, nonchalantly. He honestly knows how easy it is to fix his eye sight, but his father wouldn't have it. Says that the glasses are a Potter tradition, every Potter's been blind and they've all had matching glasses and they won't stop that anytime soon.

But cold wood was being pressed to the skin between his eyebrows, and Draco was mumbling an incoherent spell that Harry has never heard before and then he wasn't looking through frosted glass anymore. That wasn't the way he learnt to fix his eye sight.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they do, Harry looked at Draco. Really looked at Draco. They stared at each other for a moment, but Draco eventually averted his gaze to the glasses he was mindlessly playing with. He bends the bridge of them experimentally and looks back up at Harry, "May I?" he asks, holding up the glasses. Harry nodded once and grimaced at the sound it made when Draco broke them in half. It sounded like an era ending. (When he get's home, Harry will go to a muggle store and get a cheap pair of glasses with no prescription, and he'll wear them just for the familiar weight atop his nose.)

"Why is death such a hard thing for you?" Harry finally asked that question. The question that Draco didn't want to hear but knew was coming and knew he had to answer. The question Harry had wanted to ask for a long time, but didn't really want to know the answer too, because maybe it had a back story to it, like why he doesn't like medication.

Draco has been trying to answer this question himself since Jess Winkle died at the beginning of Third year and he was devastated for quite some time.

Although he doesn't have the answer yet, Draco does have a question that would stump them both, "Why shouldn't it be?"

"You hardly knew Jess and you despised Longbottom. So, why?" came his rushed reply, and Draco blinked at him owlishly.

Harry was right, but he was also so wrong. It matters not who died. What is such a hard thing for him to process is the fact that someone can have their life, soul, taken from them as easily as a candle being blown out. That energy can be pumped out of someone as slowly and painfully as a fatal wound bleeding out. And when it happens to someone he knows, it just makes it all the more real that death can happen to anyone at any time. It sickens him, sometimes, troubles him to great lengths.

He never fails to worry himself to the point of having nightmares of people he genuinely care about dying in the most gruesome of ways.

But Draco doesn't know how to put this into words, no matter how badly he wants to spill everything to Harry. So, he sucked in a deep breath, and held it for a moment while thinking, then exhaled slowly.

"Just, drop it, alright, Potter?"


	5. year five

"Can you fill in for seeker for me this up coming game against Ravenclaw?"

Harry dropped the book he was reading onto his lap in utter shock. He lifted his eyes to Draco's, whose standing over him as he sits in his favourite leather chair in the half-filled Slytherin common room. Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He blinked hard once and finally spat out the first thought that came to his still slightly in shock mind: "Are you fucking kidding?" but he already knew the answer before Draco said it because it's screaming at him through the grey depths of Draco's eyes.

"No, of course not."

"I've never trained once in my entire life for Quidditch." That was just the beginning of Harry's panicked rant, "I barely know how to play the game! I've only ever ridden a broom twice in my life! Once when I was seven, because my dad put me on a training broom for kids and I started crying when I could no longer feel the ground under my feet?! And once in first year! FIRST YEAR! I'm terrified of heights! I have never trained, never trained - "

His voice trailed off slightly, and Draco cut in with "-you said that already"

Harry continued like he never even heard Draco " - I don't even own a bloody broom, Draco! And I have not forgotten the school brooms from flying class in first year! I am not riding those! And the game in is five days! I can't do it! Why do you even need me too?!" Harry finally stopped ranting, breath coming in shallow rasps. His face was slightly flushed and there was only panic in his green eyes.

The only thing Draco said was: "You can borrow my broom."

"Draco!"

"Fine! Listen, if you do this for me, I promise I'll train with you for however long you want every day till game day." Draco gave in, exasperated.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He made a gesture with his hand and then opened his mouth again, "You're missing the point!"

"I was afraid of heights, too, you know. Until I rode a broom. It's different, Harry. Just do this, okay?" He sounded close to begging, but Malfoy's don't beg.

"Fine," And every Potter is a push over for a good friend. Harry spoke through gritted teeth, "Let's go right now, then." He picked his book up from his lap, put it on the table beside his chair and stood up, stretching his back like a cat. Draco sighed and turned around, heading to the boys dorm,

"Alright. Let's get changed into something warmer, it's cold out."

The sun was bleeding pink, red and gold at the horizon, casting warm streaks dancing across the black lake. Draco just came back from the broom shed, two Nimbus 2001's over his shoulders. One was his, while the other belonged to Lucifer. The only way they can tell which broom belongs to whom is because in second year, after Lucifer became a Slytherin Chaser and Draco, the Slytherin Seeker, Harry carved their names into their respectable brooms. They each got their brooms the day before try-outs, which Harry watched.

"I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this..." Harry kept mumbling to himself as he watched the ground underneath him disappear.

Draco was talking, and he really was trying to pay attention, but there was a loud buzz in his ears and his brain kept sending unpleasant tingles of utter panic down his spine.

When he looked up, Draco was suddenly flying away from him, and Harry panicked and screamed out his name.

"Yes, Harry?" His sweetly sarcastic voice came dancing back to Harry with the wind.

But Harry's words died on his tongue as Draco turned around and faced him.

This might sound cheesy, but on that day in the Astronomy tower in third year, Harry couldn't help but think of how beautiful Draco looked. But that day does not compare to right now.

Draco's hair had a slight red tint to it, due to the setting sun, but there was a golden shine within the red that gave the effect of having a halo. He grinned at Harry, his lips looking a bit more red than usual, and one dimple dug into his left cheek. Both of his cheeks were flushed pink with excitement. Silver eyes blinked innocently at him as Harry leaned forward on his broom and pulled up in front of Draco.

He tried to form words again, but instead, reached behind Draco's head and grasped the snitch that was waiting for him.

He pulled his hand around and held the snitch between his fingers in Draco's eye line, then he let it go again, laughing lightly.

To Draco's surprise, Harry was a natural at this. After working past his initial panic.

They landed on the pitch an hour or so later, and Harry fidgeted on his feet for a moment before looking up and smiling like a mad man again. He gave the snitch back to Draco and apologized for catching it before him so many times.

"Merlin, don't apologize! It's a good thing! We should do this more often, I really need some competition. And anyways, as long as you know what you're doing as a seeker, you don't really need to know anything else."

"I guess you're right." Sighed Harry.

"I'm always right." Scoffed Draco, sticking his nose in the air.

* * *

The dormitory was absolutely quiet, save for the rustle of paper every now and then as Lucifer turned the pages of his book. No one else is in the dorm with him at the moment, but if he focused hard enough, he can hear the murmur of the conversations going on in the Common Room.

Suddenly, there was quiet footsteps in the corridor outside and Lucifer held his breath, hoping it wasn't a fifth year boy.

The door creaked open and Harry stepped in, much to Lucifer's chagrin.

With three long strides, Harry was at the side of Lucifer's bed and with the grace of a cat, he flopped on the bed, feet on Lucifer's pillows and hands behind his head. Lucifer just continued to read, flipping the page and frowning when Harry prodded him in the side with his toe.

"Oi! Cross, put that book down." snapped Harry, prodding him in the side again.

Lucifer let out a ragged sigh and put his book off to the side, "What do you want, Potter?" he asked, fake malice lining his voice.

"You're gay, right?"

Lucifer blinked at Harry and tilted his head, "Where would you get that idea?" he asked casually, masking his panic and letting his teasing hatred drop.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Lucifer with a lazy smirk, "Lucifer," he said, "Come on."

With narrowed eyes, Lucifer replied "So I may be gay. What of it?"

Harry sat up suddenly, grabbed Lucifer by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into a clumsy kiss.

* * *

Harry popped a lemon drop in his mouth, offered to him by Headmaster Dumbledore. Lily and James Potter sat on either side of him, James looking as cheery as ever, not a care in the world, and Lily looking worried, wringing her hands. Dumbledore's normally twinkling eyes are steeled over, almost to serious to be taken seriously.

The green flames in the fire place roar and Sirius stepped into the office. He greeted Harry and Lily and proceeds to clap his hand down onto James shoulder.

After Sirius sat beside James, the flames roared again and Remus stepped through, dusting off the soot and ash, beaming at everyone. He sat beside Lily and then Dumbledore placed a newspaper on his desk for all of them to see.

The media had started attacking Cedric Diggory, saying he's lying about the return of Voldemort. Harry watched the photo of Cedric. It was taken right after he came out of the Enchanted Maze during the Triwizard Tournament. He was still covered in dirt and blood in the photo, his eyes shifting back and forth as if he expected Voldemort to jump out of no where and kill him next.

"Do you know what a Prophecy is, Harry?" asked Dumbledore. Lily and Remus sucked in a deep breath. James looked away and Sirius' eyes went wide. Obviously, they knew something Harry did not.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "Kind of, sir, but I never did quite pay attention in Divination."

Dumbledore smiled at him, and started explaining, "It is a prediction made by a Seer. You see, Harry, 16 years ago a Prophecy was made, threatening the power Voldemort had. I, myself, had witnessed this Prophecy, but I was not the only one. A young Death Eater had overheard it as the Seer was speaking it, and informed Voldemort, thus resulting in him trying to kill Neville Longbottom while he was an infant.

But the Prophecy did not specify Mr. Longbottom. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July."

Lily interrupted, "Is it really necessary to tell him this, sir?"

Harry looked away from Dumbledore, and shot a look at his mom, "What's he talking about, mum?"

Sighing, Lily looked down at her hands, and started picking at her nails, "He's probably going to tell you about how.. Well. Before Voldemort went to the Longbottom's, he came to our house. Peter Pettigrew, an old friend of your fathers, had let him in. He betrayed us." Her voice choked up and she stopped talking.

Silence crept up on all of them like a snake does it's prey. It coiled tightly around Harry, squeezing his neck and blocking his air passage. He whipped his head around to his dad, wide eyes locking with Jame's hazel eyes. He had a guess of what they were trying to say, but it seemed so surreal, so unrealistic.

He had to push it, "Dad? I still don't understand."

James' adams apple bobbed on his throat as he swallowed hard. Sirius sighed, put a hand on James' shoulder and spoke for him, "You were probably, one and a half, I think." Started Sirius, "Halloween night. Remus, Peter and I were over at your house when he walked through the front door like he did it everyday. When he noticed that you were a half-blood, he was furious at Peter for leading him to the wrong child. He assumed the child in the prophecy would be a pure-blood. He killed Peter, right there, and left."

The silence after Sirius' story only tightened harder around Harry's throat. He shook his head, doubtful as to what was being told to him. It sounded ridiculous. Sirius removed his hand from James' shoulder and looked at the floor between his feet. Harry looked back at Dumbledore.

"What's the point of telling me this?" he snapped.

"I feel you are still too young to learn the rest of this theory, dear boy. You may go."

Harry stood up, his legs feeling horribly numb. His spine was tingling and his eyes were unfocused. What else is there to know? Harry thought to himself as he made his way to the door, and stepped onto the descending stairs.

* * *

He clenched his teeth together and kept writing. He watched the shining red ink smear across the paper. It made him sick, this woman's idea of detention. He squeezed his right hand into a fist, failing in his attempts to ignore his burning flesh and pooling blood. The quill continued to scratch along the parchment, forming the same words over and over, _I must not tell lies._

It scratched his bone and he bit down on his tongue. Tears burned behind his eyes as pain shot along his nerves, dancing a top his bones. He pried his eyes open and wrote one more line, _I must not tell lies._

His hand twitched as the words were carved into his hand again in the already open wound. He bit down on his tongue harder when the pain once again used his bones as a playground.

He could feel her sick gaze watching him writhe, but he wouldn't stop.

The deep red blood smeared on the paper as his hand dragged across it. He didn't mean to smear it, but he's left handed. It's hard not to spread the wet ink.

Blood started to pool on the corner of his lips due to the hole his teeth dug into his tongue. Until a drop of blood fell onto his parchment, he didn't know that there was that much blood in his mouth. He could taste it, suddenly.

 _I must not tell lies._ His nerves tingled under the pain tearing it's way up his arm with every newly carved letter.

"It's been one hour. You may leave now, Mr. Cross." echoed her sickening sweet voice.

"Yes, Professor Umbridge." Lucifer mumbled, and put down the quill. He picked up his bag and left the overly pink office, his right hand numb and coated in blood.

* * *

As he walked down the corridors, he left a trail of red liquid, not really caring enough to take a detour to the hospital wing.

Lucifer Cross did not sleep that night. He no longer stood up for Cedric Diggory after that.

There were no more pranks being pulled around the school.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team got two new beaters and a new chaser.

Draco was suddenly top of every class as Hermione Granger's grades dropped.

Bill and Charlie Weasley showed up at Hogwarts three days before winter holiday's to pick up the rest of the Weasley children.

The Gryffindor table was oddly silent for every meal for those three day's, not a single Gryffindor having anything to say. They didn't answer questions during class. They didn't play well in Quidditch.

The silence was something Harry thought he could handle, but knowing why Gryffindor was silent made this a whole different situation. The entire house was like a family.

Harry's stomach lurched and he leaned over the toilet again. His throat burned and his eyes watered and his rib cage ached and _where the bloody hell is his boyfriend?_

The cold hand that was rubbing circles on his back was removed, only to be replaced by a warm one, and Lucifer's voice mumbled out, "Harry, you'll be fine." and _there's his boyfriend._ There was a cold hand on his cheek, tilting his head back, and a glass phial pressed against his lips. The liquid scorched his throat and Harry felt total deja vu right now as his glasses are held in front of him. He slid them on with a quiet thanks and Draco said, "It wasn't even loud." quieter than Harry said thanks.

"It was just too quiet."

Arthur Weasley was dead.


	6. year six

It's been two days since they left Hogwarts and it's 3:27am.

Harry couldn't sleep, which is probably a good thing because then he wasn't rudely awoken by the reverberating clunks the rocks made against his window. He wasn't sure who was throwing these rocks but every few seconds they'd throw a bigger one, which made for louder clunks.

After the seventh rock, Harry got up, threw open the window, stuck his head out and barked out, "What the fuck?"

His scowl, however, instantly melted off his face as he saw Lucifer standing there, awkwardly in his backyard and his face was more pale than usual under the fluorescent moon.

"There's a front door, you know? You could have knocked." Harry called down before closing his window with a snap and making his way downstairs quietly. He opened the back door a crack and slipped out, his footsteps as quiet as a mouse.

Lucifer shrugged, "I wasn't sure if your mom would wake up and answer before you did" he said as Harry walked closer to him, wet grass sliding between his toes and cooling his bare feet.

Harry finally saw the swollen red skin surrounding Lucifer's right eye, and he frowned as he reached a tentative hand up to it, "Even if she did, she would've let you in. Probably would've made you tea and nurse this bruise, honestly."

Lucifer instantly recoiled, hissing as if burnt, at the brush of Harry's finger tips.

"Who did this?" Demanded Harry while dropping his hand, "Your father?"

"You would think so, yeah. My mother isn't strong enough to leave bruises like this, right? No, she uses magic." Lucifer tried to say it lightly, but his voice was strained and his body was trembling.

"My mother can heal that easily and I'll ask my dad to get your stuff from that house tomorrow. You're not living there anymore. Okay?" It wasn't even a question.

Before Lucifer even had a chance to reply to his boyfriend, Harry turned around and strode back to the house. Lucifer frowned and followed him quietly.

Inside, despite the time of night, Harry began making tea. The kettle filled the kitchen with a dull whistle and Harry put together two mugs for the two of them. Once steam was twirling from the kettle and the whistling was at its loudest, Harry unplugged it and served the tea to Lucifer, "I make better tea than my mom. Got my skills from my grandmother on her side, she always says. Like her sister, although I've never met Petunia."

Lucifer nodded, vaguely listening to Harry's mumbled out story. He kind of thinks Harry is just talking to get Lucifer's mind off of what's going on. He just sat and stared at the dark liquid as Harry's voice got fainter and fainter to his ears. The steam swirled around him and danced and evaporated before it could reach the ceiling.

* * *

"We're meeting Draco and Blaise in Diagon Alley today, okay?" Harry called down the hall from his bedroom.

"What time?" came the reply from, echoing from the open bathroom.

"In less than an hour."

"Really? I didn't know Draco could get up this early."

"Lucifer," Harry paused, kind of confused, "It's 11am."

"Exactly." Came the reply, laced with laughter.

"He isn't that lazy!"

Lucifer scoffed, "Please, he's lazier than your dad."

Suddenly, their loud conversation was cut off by a loud laugh and what sounded like a thud.

"Oi!" James Potter yelled up the stairs, "I heard that!"

The boys could hear Lily losing herself with laughter, and they joined her as James grumbled angrily.

* * *

The room was filled with the whirring and beeping of the glowing objects. They spun and jumped and flashed and danced. Harry walked up to a shelf and poked a thing and a puff of smoke shot out of it. Confusion fogged over his face.

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, as Harry continued toward his desk.

"Thank you, sir." Harry said as he popped one in his mouth and sat down. His tingled with the sourness of it, and the roof of his mouth began to feel raw already. Why he loves these things, he'll never figure out.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, catching Harry's wandering gaze, "Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

"No, sir." replied Harry with a shake of his head.

Dumbledore tented his fingers and leaned back in his chair, peering at Harry over his half moon spectacles. Harry eyed up one of his hands, with looked charred and burned. "A Horcrux is an object, with a piece of ones soul attached to it." the old man explained slowly.

"To split the soul, Harry, takes a cruel, cruel act." Dumbledore tilted his head down, and pushed his spectacles back up, "Years ago, when Voldemort attended Hogwarts himself, he began studying Horcrux's on his own time. At first, his intent was just to make one. I'm afraid he surpassed that goal."

Harry's eyes were trained on the worn wood of Dumbledore's desk. A thousand thoughts were running around his mind, making his head hurt. He wasn't sure why Dumbledore was telling him this, he never really liked the old man. He wasn't sure why he was being told about Horcrux's, why it had anything to do with him. He wasn't sure about any of this.

Just then, Dumbledore tugged on the chain around his neck and showed Harry a locket.

The locket was hissing, like an angry snake and Harry frowned.

"This is a Horcrux, Harry. Made by Voldemort himself." then he raised his hand, the one that looked burnt up, "And this is a destroyed Horcrux."

There was a ring on his destroyed hand, a gold band with a medium sized stone mounted on it. A crack ran down the center of the stone and the ring wasn't hissing the way the locket was, "It took me all of summer to find this ring, and three more months to find the locket."

Finally, Harry snapped out of his reverie and asked, more forcefully than he intended, "Why do I need to know all of this?"

Dumbledore slowly lowered his hand, and peered over his spectacles once again. Merlin, Harry hate's it when he does that.

"There will come a time when all this will be important to you." he paused and smiled a small, knowing smile, "Why don't you go talk to Mr. Malfoy? He's been awfully quiet this year, hasn't he?"

Harry abruptly got up from his seat and with one last confusing glare at Dumbledore, turned and stalked out of the Headmasters Quarters.

* * *

Lucifer hadn't been sleeping properly since summer, and it's now four months into the school year. The lake is frozen over, making the Common Room seem darker than usual. A new blanket of snow had just fallen earlier in the day and Lucifer was more wide awake than ever due to the cold.

For these reasons, Harry's grateful to finally have had the boy fall asleep at a decent time. Even it means that he was curled into his side and purring in his ear.

Lucifer shifted, purred louder and knocked the book from Harry's hand. He sighed and tried to catch it before it fell to the ground, but was too late. A snort sounded from Draco's bed and Harry turned to see the blonde watching him.

"He's loud, isn't he?" stated Draco quietly, stretching out his legs.

"Quite, yeah." sighed Harry.

Draco hummed in response.

"Hey, Draco?"

Draco hummed again and looked at Harry.

"Your dad's a death eater, right?"

Draco instantly stiffened. His jaw clenched up and his eyes steeled over while his face paled, "Yes."

"When will he be forcing you to be a Death Eater? You know, with the return of Voldemort and all."

Harry doesn't want to know why Draco didn't flinch at the name of you-know-who. He doesn't want to know why all the muscles in Draco's body went weak, like everything in him suddenly gave up. He doesn't want to acknowledge the sad look tainting his silver eyes. He doesn't want to know the answer. It's the only answer he can't predict, the only one he doesn't know what to expect.

Draco didn't answer for a while, just stared and breathed slowly.

Eventually, he took in a deep breath and released it slowly and answered with a trembling voice, "He already has."

* * *

Harry ran through the thick smoke, dodging flying spells and turning so sharply he almost fell over twice. He gripped his wand so tight that his knuckles were white and he took the stairs three at a time. Once he turned into a new corridor, he could only hear the blasts and screams from down stairs. He pulled out the Marauders Map, which was already showing the entire lay out of Hogwarts and skidded to a stop to read it.

Up in the Astronomy Tower stood Draco and Dumbledore and behind Harry, Bellatrix Lestrange, Severus Snape and four more Death Eaters were heading toward them. Harry showed the map back into his pocket and took off at a sprint again, the wind getting knocked from him quick.

He will never forget making his way up the creaky metal stairs of the Astronomy Tower three years ago. Draco had been contemplating suicide, terrifying Harry out of his mind. Now he's up there, probably attempting to build up enough courage to kill Dumbledore just because Voldemort commanded him to.

The door slammed opened and Harry stopped in his tracks. Draco had his arm half lowered back to his side, his wand limp in his hand. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he gaped at Harry. Dumbledore wand lay in the corner, forgotten about.

"It's him, or your family, Draco." Harry's voice was strained from emotion, and he stepped slowly toward Draco,

"Harry. Harry, I can't do it." whispered Draco, voice cracking as he sobbed.

"He'll kill your mother." Harry said it as softly as he could.

"I.. I can't." he turned back to Dumbledore, who was watching the exchange with curious blue eyes.

The stairs behind them started to creak, the eerie noise echoing up the stairwell and bouncing around the tower.

"That's Bellatrix, Draco," even to his own ears, Harry sounded absolutely panicked, "And if Dumbledore isn't dead by the time she's up here, how do you think she's going to react?"

"Merlin," breathed Draco, a fresh wave of tears rolling down his cheeks, "Why me, Harry?"

"Because your father pissed off Voldemort." hissed Harry, his green eyes narrowing.

Anger flared up in Draco's chest, "He didn't mean too!" he screamed, turning around to face Harry. His face was contorted with blind rage and panic, and he hand his wand pointed at Harry's chest, "My father may have made mistakes but I still care about him. He's still my father so don't you dare - don't talk about him with disgust dripping from your voice."

Harry couldn't reply. He didn't know how to reply. Words wouldn't form in his throat or roll off his tongue or even float around in his mind. But he didn't need to come up with anything to say because at that moment, Bellatrix strode through the door with Snape and Greyback and other Death Eater's in tow.

Draco scowled at his insane aunt and dropped his wand back to his side. Greyback smiled, a twisted, cruel smile revealing his yellow pointed, teeth. Harry's stomach churned and he took a step back as someone stepped up to him.

Draco wheeled around to corner Dumbledore, who hasn't moved. He wasn't even upset. He wasn't even trying to fight. This is Dumbledore, and he know's why Draco is doing this.

Bellatrix began to coo in Draco's ear, about how he's done such a good job, he's such a good little death eater, she's so proud of her nephew. Before Draco even had a chance to get upset all over again at the concept of murder, Snape flicked his wrist, and whispered "avada kedavra" from behind Draco.

The luminescent green beam hit Dumbledore right in the center of his chest. The twinkle in his blue eyes went out like a candle and with the force of the unforgivable spell, the empty shell of Dumbledore tumbled backwards off the tower. Snape pursed his lips, turned with a flourish and barked out, "We have to leave. Now. You too, Potter."

Bellatrix grabbed Draco by the collar of his shirt and dragged him out. Whoever was standing infront of Harry grabbed his shoulder and pushed him toward the door. Harry followed behind Draco, trying to block out everything going on. He kept his eyes down, chanting in his mind, _right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot..._ because if he stops thinking about it, he's sure he'll stop walking. He can hear Draco's shallow breathing, the laughing of Bellatrix as she danced on the tables of the great hall, the hard foot falls of Greyback in front of Harry and Draco.

The wet grass flattened under their feet, made Harry slip and Draco shot a hand out to help balance him. He took Draco's hand, and held it tight. He found he couldn't let go because there were only so many things that were keeping him grounded in the middle of this war, and one of them happened to be Draco.

He found himself unable to let go of Draco in fear of losing himself if he did.


	7. year seven

Harry and Draco weren't let go. Bellatrix Lestrange advised against that after the happenings at the end of their sixth year. They didn't even write their exams or experience the end of the year feast. She just took them straight to Voldemort and told him everything.

They ended up getting locked in Draco's room for four months. Protective enchantments were surrounding the doors and windows and the Floo. They couldn't leave and they had four months to figure out how. They celebrated both their seventeenth birthdays in that room with nothing but each other.

If they weren't best friends before, they were after all that time together.

Actually, Harry was surprised that they weren't at each others throats and completely sick of one another.

And then, the day came where Draco mustered up enough courage to cast an Imperio charm on the Death Eater that delivered them food. The tray the Death Eater was holding dropped to the ground and the porcelain on it shattered, sending all the food flying. The unforgivable spell was taking all of Draco's efforts and he broke into a cold sweat as the Death Eater turned around and took all the enchantments of the door. Then the windows, and the Floo. Draco then walked the Death Eater out and sent him down the hall. Behind him, Harry was already throwing up new protective enchantments on everything, to keep out everyone except him and Draco.

By the look on Draco's face, Harry knows that he will never forget how to feels to cast a spell like Imperio, and he'll never forgive himself.

This gave them more time to prepare. To figure out what to do. To think about different leads on what the rest of Voldemort's Horcrux's could be, because until they're all destroyed, Voldemort will always be there, hiding in the shadows, haunting the very realm they live in.

Harry enchanted one of Draco's bag, expanding the size of it inside and began to drop all the things he assumed they would need. Including the items that the ministry somehow managed to get to them while locked away. The items were an odd collection, but they were left to them by Dumbledore, in his will, so Harry assumed they were hints to what the other Horcrux's could be.

Before someone came to check on them, due to the Death Eater that probably told someone what they did after Draco released him from the spell, they left.

The only place that Harry could think of that was the safest bet for the two of them, was home.

* * *

Lucifer joined them on their Horcrux hunt after they left the Malfoy Manor.

He kept on throwing out random questions, until his curiosity was satisfied and Harry has never been more agrivated in his life. No, he didn't know what the other horcrux's were yet. No, he had no idea why Draco had a weird little Disluminator made by Dumbledore. No, he doesn't know why this book was written in ancient ruins. No, he doesn't know why Dumbledore would leave a Slytherin the sword of Godric Gryffindor. No, he doesn't know how they're going to destroy the horcrux's once they find them, but he intends to study that within the books he's brought with them. No, he doesn't want to talk about how they got out captivity at Malfoy Manor. Does he ever shut up?

There came a day where Harry, Lucifer and Draco were sitting in their tent, in the middle of nowhere in Scotland and dozens of books spread out before them. The quiet buzz of the radio they had was the only thing filling the quiet, talking about the casualties of the war, and the activities of the Death Eaters.

Harry came to two conclusions that day, surrounded by books and his two best friends. One, he had no feelings for Lucifer. Two, he had a lead on a horcrux. (Harry proceeds to break up with Lucifer when he had a chance to catch him alone. He doesn't know how Lucifer took it.)

"Lucy -"

"- Don't fucking call me that."

"Weren't you saying that all those months ago, during the Death Eater raid against Hogwarts, some girl was screaming in the Slytherin dorms and completely trashed the place?"

Lucifer furrowed his brows and looked at Harry, skeptical, "Yeah? She was screaming about what else someone had taken from her vault. When I went up there later, she was gone and so were, well, both of your trunks." he nodded at Harry and Draco.

"And, somehow, we came into the possession of the sword of Gryffindor."

"What are you getting at, Harry?"

"Do you think the sword was originally in her vault? And maybe she freaked out because there was something else in her vault, of more value?"

Draco and Lucifer looked at him, like he was crazy at first. Then, something clicked in both of their minds and their jaws slowly dropped and realization took over. Draco smiled suddenly, and clapped his hands together, "You think a Horcrux is in there."

"It's a possibility." Harry shrugged.

"However," Lucifer interrupted the gaze between Draco and Harry, and he watched their thoughts literally come to a halt. They both glanced at him, "We can't just walk into Gringotts."

* * *

Weeks later, after another near death experience, Harry, Draco and Lucifer are collapsing into the snow, some where far away from Gringotts. Harry had Helga Hufflepuff's cup clutched firmly in his hand and Draco was already passed out in the snow, worn out from Apparating all three of them such a far distance. Lucifer was setting up the tent as fast as possible, demanding Harry put up enchantments to protect them. From his spot in the snow, Harry began casting charms around their random camping spot.

The second Lucifer exited the newly set up tent, Harry tossed the cup at him, and dropped his bag. Lucifer knew that the sword of Gryffindor was in there, embedded with basilisk venom. He knew what to do.

Harry scooped up Draco in his arms and brought him in the tent, tucking him into a cot near the fire. He was ice cold, probably from the snow and the fact that he was completely drained.

Just then, Lucifer came back into the tent, Hufflepuff's cup smoking and melted in his hand.

"You know," Lucifer started, as he dropped both the items in his hands, "First, Slytherin's locket. Then, Hufflepuff's cup..." he trailed off, a thoughtful look coming over him.

"Ravenclaw."

* * *

The alarm went off the moment their feet hit the ground of Hogsmeade. It echoed down the street and resembled the noise a cat makes when it's in pain. They panicked and ran down an alley beside the Hog's Head.

A side door to the Hog's Head slammed opened at that moment, and someone ushered them all in. He then proceeded to scream at the Death Eaters flooding the street, wands in hand, that his bloody cat got out, calm down.

Soon, he was in the room as them, with food and butterbeer but only Lucifer grabbed a mug. Draco froze, his eyes wide and blank as he stared at their savior.

"You look an awful lot like Dumbledore." Harry pointed out, casually.

"Of course I do!" The man with the silver beard and twinkling blue eyes exclaimed, "I am his brother."

"Aberforth?"

Lucifer walked up the large portrait on the opposite wall of them of this young blonde girl, with similar eyes and thin lips. She smiled down at Lucifer, and shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"Is this your sister?" he asked, gesturing up to the portrait.

Aberforth pursed his lips, "That she is."

Draco finally picked up a mug, seeming to relax a bit, and sipped at it. He couldn't look at Aberforth directly.

Getting straight to the point, Harry looked at Aberforth and said, "We need to get into Hogwarts. Any idea's?"

Aberforth's gaze averted from Harry to the portrait, his twinkle dying out slightly. The portrait, though suddenly looking grim, nodded at him. She turned and began walking away, until she was just a speck against the landscape she was painted against.

As she started to return, seemingly with someone following, Aberforth said nothing but, "You might not want too. It's not the same there."

When Aberforth's sister reached the front of the portrait again, the painting swung open, revealing a very tired Seamus Finnigan and a long passage way behind him. The Gryffindor frowned at them, not happy to see the three Slytherin's, but gestured for them to follow anyway.

After thanking Aberforth for helping them, they clambered into the passageway behind Seamus and followed in a single file line. Draco, from behind Harry, whispered so quiet that Harry almost missed it, "was this on the map?"

"No" replied Harry before asking Seamus, "What's new at Hogwart's this year?"

Seamus grunted, "Snape is Headmaster. It's been nothing but hell."

"Has this passage way always been here?" Lucifer asked.

"No. The Room of Requirement created it. The rest are blocked off and there are Dementor's patrolling everything. This is the only safe way in and out of the school."

Draco stiffened at the mention of the Room of Requirement. His entirety of sixth year was spent there, trying to figure out a way to allow the Death Eater's into Hogwarts. No good memories were made there for him.

At the end of the passage, a door swung open above a fireplace. Seamus stepped out and crawled down the ladder to the side. The room was huge, with dozens of cots everywhere.

When Harry, Draco and Lucifer all entered, everyone turned and watched them intently. It seems like in the midst of Snape's reign over the school, this has become a safe haven for them. Harry couldn't spot a single Slytherin, though.

Harry turned to face them, and asked whom among them was a Ravenclaw. Very few stood up, but among them was Luna Lovegood. She always knows the random facts that no one else does. Harry went straight to her.

"Luna, can you help me?"

"Depends. What do you need, Harry?" She replied in her dreamy voice.

"Something that once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw. One lost artifact that has been lost to the ages."

Her big eyes perked up instantly, "Her diadem!"

There was a laugh from the crowd and some Ravenclaw spoke up, "That's just a legend."

Lucifer turned on his heels to face them and pulled the sword of Godric Gryffindor from the bag, "So, this was just a legend too, eh?"

Then, Draco reached in and grabbed the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, "And this?"

The room went dead silent.

"There is only one person who can help you with the Diadem. I'll take you to her."

That's how Harry found himself face to face with The Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw House. After a quick conversation, and a history lesson, Harry learned that the Grey Lady is none other than the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw herself.

Helena's breath hitched at the mention of the name Tom Riddle, and that's how Harry knew that they were on the right path.

"Helena, I need that Diadem."

"He defiled it!" The Grey Lady screamed and her face contorted with anger, "He defiled it with dark magic!"

Staying calm, Harry said carefully, "I aim to cleanse it of dark magic."

* * *

He was on his hands and knees outside of what should be the Room of Requirement, struggling to breathe. The sword of Gryffindor was pinned under his hand and the diadem lay destroyed mere feet away. Draco was safe and groaning as he got to his feet, and Lucifer was sitting with his back against the wall, a Slytherin student passed out near the broom he used to escape.

Why they were ambushed by two Slytherin students, he doesn't know. But he can only guess that they're devoutly loyal to Voldemort and maybe intended to stop them. They did bare the Dark Mark. They probably know what they've been doing.

Despite their success, Harry was angry. He was unreasonably angry, and it was alien to him. Harry had no idea where this came from but it was pumping through his veins none the less. It made him feel crippled, like his body didn't even belong to him at the moment.

The war raged around him, blasts and colors and screams and fog and he could only squeeze his eyes shut and swallow his rising vomit.

Voldemort is tearing this school down because of him.

Horcruxes echoed through his mind. To split the soul. To protect the soul. To live forever. To murder.

Suddenly, something clicked within Harry and he knew what he needed to do.

* * *

The castle was silent, but not silent enough. Harry could still hear the fire crackling and the linger of Voldemort's announcement and the shifting stone of the castle turned to rubble.

But it was silent enough that if one were drop a pin, it would be heard if you listen close enough.

But, if you listened close enough, you could also hear the echoes of the war. The screams the losing and the destruction of the school. You would be able to hear thuds and footsteps and the laughter of Bellatrix as she murdered children.

But, who was _actually_ listening that closely? No one.

Harry descended the stairs and walked into the great hall where everyone was mourning the dead properly. He saw a group of red-headed people, the Weasley's, and noted that they were all crying. Except one of the twins - the other twin was the one on the ground. Oh.

Harry averted his gaze from the broken family and spotted his own. He saw his parents and his godfather and Draco and Lucifer and Harry couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped from the depths of his chest. He picked up his pace and grinned as he threw his arms around Draco and Lucifer's shoulders. They're alive. His parent's are alive. Sirius is alive. Then, he looked down, to what everyone else was looking at and his breath caught in his throat. Remus and his wife, Tonks, both lie at their feet, their hands mere centimeters apart, like they were just holding hands.

"But..." Harry didn't even know what he was trying to say as he looked up at his dad, "But? Teddy?"

His mother smiled and closed her eyes, "I think we're going to take Teddy in after all this. After all, Remus did make you Teddy's godfather, Harry."

"He.. He did?" Harry's vision went blurry and he stumbled back, overwhelmed. Trying to breathe, Harry grabbed Draco and shoved the bag that had everything in it into his hand. Then, he lowered his voice and told him, "It's Nagini. The last one that he made is Nagini. You know what to do."

He kept his gaze forward as he left the hall. He doesn't want to see face's he'll recognize.

Before he knew it, Harry was deep in the forbidden forest, following a pair of Death Eaters.

Then, he was listening to Voldemort talk about him and Longbottom, and how this was their fate, this is because they were the Horcruxes he never meant to make.

Then, he was closing his eyes against the bright green light.

* * *

"Longbottom?"

"Right you are, Harry."

"What is this place?"

"It's whatever you want it to be."

It went silent for a moment, and then Harry heard Neville Longbottom question him, "Kings Cross?"

Neville sat down on one of the benches. He looked at Harry and patted the empty space next to him. Looking around, Harry mused that it did look like Kings Cross, just a lot cleaner and without trains. Actually, everything was almost pure white, even what Neville was wearing.

Sitting down, Harry mumbled, "Yeah, I guess so"

After a heartbeat of silence passed, Neville spoke quietly, "I was a Horcrux, too."

"Were you sent here when he murdered you, too?"

"I was." Neville nodded, "I also had that." he proceeded to point under the bench, so Harry curiously glanced under their feet and cringed. It looked like a shriveled up dead baby, but he supposed it was the part of him that was Voldemort.

Sitting back up, Harry looked at the Boy-Who-Lived, "So, what now?"

Neville shrugged, "You can go back and finish this. I suspect, since that prophecy spoke of no one in particular, you can probably do the job as well as I."

Holding up a hand, Harry furrowed his eyebrows, "Wait. I can go back?"

Neville just sighed, defeated.

"You could have gone back, too?"

His head hung low, disappointed.

"You're a coward."

"No," Neville replied, and he just sounded exhausted, "I was tired."

* * *

Voldemort was still trying to get to his feet when Harry ran out of there. He jumped over roots and weaved through the trees and didn't even give a single Death Eater a chance to react to him. He needed to get back.

And when he did, Nagini was dead.

She was making her way back to her master with all the Death Eaters, but she never made it past Draco. Even with all the enchantments Voldemort had surrounding her, Draco still got the job done.

Voldemort broke out of the forest just moments after Harry did and everything happened so fast.

He saw the dead corpse of his snake and screamed in such a rage that it shook the ground they were standing on.

Harry went dashing through the school, completely at a loss of what to do. He turned one corner and saw Fenrir Greyback feeding on a Gryffindor girl. He saw Bellatrix dropping kids like they were nothing. He saw a green beam fly by him so close that he could've guessed it was meant for him but behind him, a Hufflepuff boy dropped to the ground, an empty shell. Harry's stomach lurched, and all the noise of the war rushed into his ears and he barfed right there, almost all over his shoes.

Voldemort hunted him down personally, right in the center of the school. Harry was cornered. He had no choice.

As a crowd gathered around them, Harry demanded that no one else try to help. This is it. This is what has to be.

Voldemort's reign ended that night.


	8. four years later

A month after the war, after Voldemort's fall, Harry wrote his exams, despite everything and began to study to become a healer. Some people were trying to convince him to become an Auror, keep fighting the war because that's what he's good at but Harry couldn't stomach the thought of killing more people. (h _e can heal as many people as he wants, but it won't fill the void._ )

Draco suffered through weeks of trials for him and his family. Harry tried to speak for the Malfoy's during the trials but he has no idea if it actually mattered or not. Eventually, it was decided that his father were to be sent to Azkaban but Draco and his mother were free to go. (w _as it really free when their every move is being watched by the Ministry?_ )

Lucifer dropped off the face of the earth after he got his own place in Hogsmeade. He began training as a curse-breaker at Gringotts, and Bill Weasley was his mentor. Neither were happy about this but Lucifer had to admit to himself, he couldn't ask for a better teacher. He threw himself into his work and completely lost contact with everything else around him. ( _He needed this time to himself, to find himself._ )

For four years, the three of them lost contact completely.

Harry began to date a girl, Juliana Corvey. He met her when he was 18.

Lucifer buried his parents at the age of 19. He didn't miss them at all.

Draco dropped out of Auror training to care for his mother who had fallen ill. He was 20.

And then, they were all 21 and it felt like a new beginning for them. There was a Christmas ball at the Ministry and all three of them attended. They were all someone's plus one. Draco went with a man he met during Auror training, who had developed some what of a crush on him. He couldn't turn the poor sod down, when he looked so love sick. Lucifer attended with a friend, and that was the end of that. Harry was his girlfriend's plus one, Juliana, who worked at the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries.

Lucifer was Muggle-born. He picked up smoking when he was thirteen. His parents smoked in the house so he choked on the smoke all the time anyway. He hoped that if he smoked a pack a day (or maybe two) maybe he would die quicker. Now, it's just a bad habit.

Harry stumbled out of the ballroom, overheating and dropping his fake smile, and pulled on his collar. He tried smoking before, and he didn't hate it. He just didn't think about it again. Nevertheless, he caught a lift to the surface and wandered over to the smoking area. Muggle born wizards sometimes pick up muggle smoking as a habit - purebloods have no clue what it is and when explained, they just look at them like _why would you do that yourself?_

But, that bad habit is how Harry saw Lucifer again for the first time in four years.

He was standing there, in his dark dark blue dress robes with black stitching and a silver undershirt and black tie. His hair was shorter than it has ever been, making his prominent jaw look even more sharp. His eyes had a newfound maturity to them that made Harry look twice, despite the bags that resided under them, showing off his exhaustion.

"Lucy?" he said gingerly, his steps slowing down. Instantly, Lucifer tensed up and he turned around sharply. There was a cigarette hanging from his lips and smoke dancing in front of his pale face. He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing, when he saw Harry, and replied, "Don't fucking call me that."

_deja vu_

With a grin, Harry exclaimed, "It is you!" and pulled him into a hug, which Lucifer returned, though not as forcefully.

"How have you been?" Asked Harry as they parted.

"Actually, really well. Yourself?"

Just then, the lift behind them began to whir and squeak as it brought someone else to the surface. They heard the door creak and a few footsteps, and then a small burst of flame. A long inhale and a long exhale. Harry turned around and the newcomer took another drag of his cigarette as he looked up. The man looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Draco?"

"Potter?"

"When did you pick up such a muggle habit?"

He cleared his throat, awkward, and straightened his posture, "When my mother fell ill."

The moment fell silent, and the three old friends stood there, looking at each other for a beat before Harry shrugged and said "fuck it."

He took a smoke from Lucifer and lit it up, and just like that, the awkward reunion passed and they began to talk like four years hadn't passed at all. They talked like it was just yesterday that they saw each other.

* * *

Two months after that ball, Harry broke up with Juliana.

He cared for the girl, yes, but for two years, nothing really felt right between them and it took him until recently to notice that. It was a nagging at the back of his mind that he finally acknowledged.

It was a dreary morning in mid February and the apartment smelt like freshly brewed coffee and maple syrup. That made Harry's heart hurt even more then it already did but his mind was set. He can't keep lying to himself.

"Hi, sweetie." Juliana called as Harry entered the kitchen, "Coffee?"

Harry tried a smile, "Please."

She handed him a cup and he sat down, gripping the warm mug in his hands at the kitchen table. He closed his eyes, took a long breath, and looked at the beautiful woman in front of him. And beautiful she was, with her dirty blonde hair curled, so tight and so unruly. Her big doll eyes framed by her long eyes lashes, so blue and so forgiving. Her skin tan and littered with freckles, so warm and so smooth. She had these long delicate fingers, but her fingernails were worn down due to years and years of piano playing. She a thick scar, that she was so proud of, running along the side of her neck, onto her collarbone and it had a story to it that still made Harry chuckle. She had a soft voice that always seemed to be on the edge of singing almost everything she said. Harry didn't deserve her.

"We need to talk, Julie."

She smiled wide, although it was a sad smile, and put her coffee down. Her eyes were knowing, and they were forgiving and they understood. No wonder she was a Ravenclaw.

"I know what this is, and I want you to know that... You've been the best boyfriend I could have ever asked from you. You've been through so much and I am so lucky for the time that we spent together. But I noticed when you began to distance, and I've waited for this talk."

Harry mentally took a step back. He blinked owlishly and swallowed hard. He didn't deserve this woman at all. Not on any level. It took him a moment, but words finally formed on his tongue, "Why didn't you bring it up yourself?"

"I wanted you to do this on your own time. I would like to stay in contact. You're important to me, regardless of this break up."

At that moment, Harry stood up and smiled wide, tears in his eyes, "I don't deserve you."

"Damn right you don't." Juliana laughed and blinked back her own tears, "I'll have my stuff out soon, don't you worry."

Harry hugged her fiercely, "We will stay in contact, I promise. Don't even rush with moving out. Just, thank you. Thank you for being my rock after the war. Thank you for being so understanding. Thank you for saving me from myself. Thank you for coming into my life."

Juliana hugged him back, and sighed softly into his shoulder, "You're welcome."

* * *

The break up hurt, but not as much as he thought it would. Sure, his apartment was emptier now and colder than ever, but he kept in contact with Juliana. He couldn't miss her when she was still popping in and demanding they go for coffee every week.

The Daily Prophet caught wind of their break up immediately. It was kind of scary how they did that, to be honest.

That was how Draco heard of the break up because, of course, because the stupid Potter boy wouldn't tell his best friend himself.

He Flooed into Harry's apartment, kind of annoyed, and called out, "Tell me about Juliana."

Harry was making himself a cup of hot chocolate and ended up dropping what he was holding in surprise. Cocoa powder exploded all over the floor and himself. He muttered out a curse and grabbed his wand from the table behind him, muttering out a quick incantation to clean up the mess.

"Draco?"

"In the flesh." Harry could hear the smirk in Draco's voice as Harry rounded the corner.

He looked at Draco with confusion dancing on his face, "I already told you of Juliana?"

Raising an eyebrow, Draco replied, "You didn't tell me you broke up."

"Oh." Harry shrugged, and gestured Draco to follow him further into the apartment, "Not that big of a deal. Hot chocolate?"

"Sure."

Sitting at the table, Draco watched Harry as he made the two of them cups of hot chocolate and noted that Harry's fingers were trembling. He raised his eyebrows, a thousand questions surfacing in his mind. Why was he so tense, too? Odd. Draco leaned back in his chair more, his silver eyes narrowing, and tried to sift through his thoughts carefully.

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

"Why did you break up?"

Harry's hands stuttered to a halt and he froze for a moment, such a short moment it almost didn't seem like he froze at all ( _but Draco Malfoy knew every little detail of Harry Potter's mannerisms_ ) and he grabbed the mugs. He turned around swiftly, a small smile on his face, and the expression in his eyes was completely steeled over. This is something he wanted to keep to himself, bad.

"I thought I loved her, and I do. But not in the way that she deserves. We're still great friends, but that's just it..." He trailed off as he put Draco's hot chocolate in front of him, and sat across the table from the blonde man, "We work better as friends."

Draco hummed vaguely as he approved of this response and took a small sip of his drink, peering at Harry from over the rim. He eyed up the man that he pretty much grew up with and noted that he wasn't much different then the eleven year old Harry Potter that he met. His hair was still as curly and messy, as if he just woke up and hadn't touched a brush in 10 years - which he very well probably hasn't. His skin had slowly darkened from his deathly pale to a healthy tan and his firm jaw is littered with rough stubble. He had sand in his eyes, the kind you get while sleeping and wake up feeling crusty. He looked terrible, honestly. - but at the same time, handsome and mature. Sometime's Draco wonders how Potter, in his chaotic and messy ways, could stand Draco and his perfectly pristine annoying nature. ( _that he was brainwashed into_ )

Sighing to himself, completely defeated, Draco mused to himself, _opposites attract, I guess._

To be honest, as much as Draco was worried about how Harry was taking the end of a two year relationship, he was also kind of happy. As sick as that is. This is his best friend sitting in front of him, looking absolutely terrible and after all these years, he's still hopelessly in love with the git.

* * *

Draco began to pop by Harry's flat on Harry's days off just for coffee and to talk.

He refused to let them fall into another lapse of not talking - especially not for another four years. He let Harry go once, he wouldn't let that happen again.

Both of the them did try to keep in contact with Lucifer. They did.

He dropped off the face of the earth. Again.

They sent him dozens of owls, asking him to come around for coffee or to hang out. He only responded once, and his letter read - _stop_.

Draco and Harry proceeded to go to Gringotts to ask about Lucifer themselves, or to see if they could at least catch him at work. The Goblin's said that Lucifer quit working there a long time ago. Despite Lucifer telling them to stop, they continued to try to track him down but it came to realization that Lucifer didn't want to be found. _So much for that._

* * *

Half a year later, Lucifer showed up on Harry's front door step at 11 pm.

Draco and Harry had been drinking hot chocolate and catching up on the events of the work week when there came a knock at the door. Harry shot Draco a confused look, and put his mug down, wandering over to the door. From the living room, Draco heard the door creak open, a small gasp and then, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

He heard a small voice utter out, "Surprise." before a crack and more curses.

Harry's voice boomed through the small flat, "DRACO!"

Next thing they knew, Lucifer was sitting in Harry's apartment with a broken nose and cup of hot chocolate himself, "Why the hell did you have to punch me?"

Completely flabbergasted, Harry put his hands on his hips, a menacing look on his face as he stared down at Lucifer, "You disappeared for over half a year."

"You didn't look for me last time I did that."

"Because last time, you were living in a little flat in Hogsmeade and were training to be a Curse-Breaker. You didn't _actually_ disappear, you just stopped talking to us."

The room fell dead silent as Lucifer dropped his gaze in shame. Draco stared at Harry, curious, as the man seethed at their old friend. He walked over to him, slowly, and placed a hand on Harry's arm. He flinched at the touch, and turned to face the slightly taller man. They traded gazes, as if they were having a silent conversation, and Harry visibly relaxed after a moment, leaning against Draco in the slightest.

"You two finally together, then?"

They both got shocked out of their silent conversation, and jumped back from each other at that comment. A dumbfounded expression fell across Harry's face, and a blush crept on to Draco's.

Tilting his head, Harry asked, "Why do you say it like that? We get together for coffee all the time."

Lucifer barked out a humorless laugh and stood up gracefully. He downed the rest of his hot chocolate in one chug and placed the mug on the coffee table, "Well, it was good seeing you two again. I will drop by again sometime soon, I promise. I'm here to stay. But Draco," Lucifer looked at the blushing man sternly, "You need to tell Harry. Now." and with that said, he left quick, the door slamming shut behind him.

Harry wheeled around to face Draco, still completely confused, "What is he talking about, Malfoy?" Harry always got unreasonably frustrated when they were keeping something from him and making it so obvious.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_.

"Harry, listen..." Began Draco as he tried to calm his nerves and muster up some courage. Was it possible to apparate out of here? Did Potter put up wards? He could try, but if he does have wards then he'll be awkwardly standing in front of Harry with the man knowing he was just going to run away. He could lie! But Harry knows him better than anyone, he knows his tell when hes lying, even though it's just the slightest twitch of his lip (always on the right side) that no one else would notice. He has no choice, then, it seems. Even though every fiber in his being is telling him to figure out a way out of this, out of trying to confess his feelings, he musters up enough courage as he can and breathes deep.

"I love you. I have since..." Draco paused, and breathed again, watching all the emotions flicker across Harry's face - confusion ( _are you serious?_ ) betrayal ( _this is a sick joke_ ) realization ( _no, wait..._ ) and then, hope. ( _he feels the same way._ )

"I have since fourth year."

And Harry, being stupid little Harry Potter, couldn't stop himself from taking those few steps between him and Draco, and grabbing Draco's face. He pulled him close, and kissed him, fiercely, pouring years and years of longing and love behind it. He kissed him so fiercely, Draco was left breathless. He stumbled back, inhaling softly and Harry's fingers loosened slightly, but the reassuring pressure was still there, against his skin.

"Lucifer knew?" was all Draco said, and god, he is so stupid. Really, Draco?

"He.. He did. I used him, for a while, to figure out my sexuality. He isn't dumb, he knew that I was. And he knew why. While we were dating, he confronted me about the way I looked at you.. Fuck, he knew more about how I felt than I did." Harry laughed and dropped his hands from Draco.

Draco sighed, so confused and yet so unbelievably blissful. He looked up at Harry with wide silver eyes and smiled small, "We are so stupid."

* * *

They were together, officially together, for almost a year, when Draco got news that made his heart shatter.

He found Harry in their flat after visiting his mother, curled up in an overly stuffed chair, staring out the window at the storm that raged outside. Thunder shook the building and lightning lit up every dark corner of the room.

"Harry."

Green eyes pinned him down, and Draco, against all his will, shed a single tear at the sight of the man before him.

"I'm so sorry."

His parents wanted grand kids. They wanted the line to be continued, pure blooded and normal. They wanted everything to be perfect. Draco, gay? Draco, dating Harry Potter? Draco, in a small flat? Draco, living in the muggle world? Not perfect. No where near perfect.

He was set to marry Astoria Greengrass at the end of the week.

Harry moved out.


	9. bittersweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helo am not ded

Draco did as he was told.

It was a large wedding. Almost the entirety of every Pure-blood line had attended. The sun was shining and the grass was green. The archway Draco stood under was a sight to be seen as he waited for his future wife to walk down the aisle. It was all vine and flowers and fairy lights intertwined. It was beautiful, just as it should be. Draco wouldn't have anything else for his wedding.

He didn't invite Harry Potter to his wedding. He had already hurt the man enough, he didn't want him to have to watch Draco get handed off to someone else. But, unknown to him, Harry went anyway. Maybe the man liked to torture himself. Maybe he wanted to see what Draco would look like. Maybe he wanted to picture how his wedding could've been to Draco, if things were different. Maybe Draco would see him at the back and not be able to go through with it.

Standing at the alter, holding hands with Astoria Greengrass, Draco tried to avert his eyes to every single place besides Astoria. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to do this. His mind was reeling and his mind was fogging over and everything around him was spinning. Was this the right thing to do? Harry and him could have had kids. Harry and him could have had a surrogate and still continue the line, pure blood and all, if they picked the right surrogate. Harry and him could have made it work. Draco's eyes focused on something on the ground but he didn't know what because his eyesight had blurred over.

Somewhere, in the real world, in the back of Draco's mind, he heard Astoria's sweet voice solemnly say, "I do."

His eyes were dragged back to her, and he looked at her for the first time in the entire wedding. Her eyes were dark emerald green and blazing with apologies. He looked at her curly black hair, and her blazing green eyes and he saw Harry Potter. He saw the man he gravitated toward his entire life, the one person who understood him. The one person he loved, who he finally made it back too after everything they had been through.

Against his will, Draco began to cry.

Everyone thought the crying meant something different as the tears streamed down his face. He looked over at his mother, who's jaw was set in anger. She didn't want to do this to him, but she had no choice.

His tears were salty as they made their way past his lips when he spoke. He nearly choked on his words as he said, voice cracking, "I do."

In the far, far back, a man with unruly black hair and dark green, emotionless eyes wiped away a stray tear, stood up and walked away.

Draco didn't see him.

* * *

  
Harry Potter moved back home with parent's for a while as he looked for a new place to live. He ended up finding an apartment for rent near St. Mungo's and thought that would be a good idea, seeing as he was a relatively new healer there. He figured it would be a good idea to live near work.

His apartment was a small, bare shoebox.

One bedroom, one bathroom and no real distinction between where the kitchen ended and the living room started. He had a large TV mounted against the wall and a muggle gaming console on a TV stand underneath it. A small leather loveseat sat on the wall adjacent to it, with an end table beside it and a good looking collection of books on a bookshelf under the window. He had a small table and one chair to match it marking where the kitchen ended and the living room started. His bathroom had nothing in it but contact lenses, some muggle painkillers and shaving utensils. His bedroom? The barest of them all. One bed that was too wide for one person and a single nightstand with a lamp and an alarm clock.

Harry couldn't bring himself to make the apartment his, because he wasn't sure how long he'd be staying. He had this empty pit resting in his stomach that he wasn't sure he could fill for a long time. Maybe he'll travel the world, never stopping, always seeing something new, always searching, always moving.

But Harry Potter was Harry Potter and he became a healer to continue to help people. Harry Potter can't simply leave behind the task of helping people? Outrageous. So, he threw himself into his work to forget the growing void in the pit of his stomach. He didn't notice when he started to forget who he was, too.

Draco Malfoy had 3 kids with Astoria Greengrass.

His first child was Scorpius. A great kid who looked exactly like his father, but acted like his mother. He got the silver eyes and the blonde hair and the sharp features, but he had his mothers heart. The manners, the caring nature, the soft voice, the gentle touches, the need to love everything and everyone. As he grew older, he developed an attitude that could sometimes rival his fathers, but it was only because he was taught to protect his pure heart, so that became his protective shell. It wasn't hard to breach those walls and know Scorpius for who he truly was. He was all soft edges and soft skin and soft soul and he was Draco's pride and joy.

His second child was a girl, Lyra, and Astoria was ecstatic to have her. She had pale green eyes and thick blonde hair and her voice was like music to ones ear. She was a force to be reckoned with, independent and courageous and fierce. She knew what she wanted to do and how to do it, and so she did it. She was a musical prodigy with her talent. Her violin, her voice, her piano, her guitar. She never wore makeup like other teenage girls and her hair was always tied back because it always got in the way of her work but she wouldn't dare cut it off. She was different, and brilliant and Astoria's pride and joy.

His third child was another boy, Caelum, and as he grew up, Draco found himself finding it difficult to look at him. He had unruly black hair and blazing dark green eyes, just like his mother. He took after Scorpius a lot, in the attitude department in the end and his sassy nature had him loved by many. He was funny, and easy going and his teachers loved him no matter how much he struggled in school sometimes. Half way through his first year at Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey had discovered he needed glasses and Draco didn't know, but when he came home, he was the spitting image of Harry Potter with the glasses perched on his nose. Draco's heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach and stayed there as he raised his child. Caelum was a daily reminder of what he let go of all those years ago.

He was trying so hard to forget Harry Potter, too.

* * *

St. Mungo's never wreaked like any other hospital Harry had ever been to in his life. Normally, muggle hospitals had the strong smell of sadness and sanitizer. Not St. Mungo's, though. It just smelt of sadness.

Harry saved as many people as he could in his short life time. It was the only thing he wanted to do after everything he had been through, all that he had seen. All that he had lost. He couldn't bare letting anyone else go through what he himself had to go through.

So, he helped, and he healed and he gave away what little he had left of himself until he was just an empty shell.

And then, he relentlessly continued to give what he did not have.

At 43 years old, he was the head Healer of St. Mungo's and he has never felt more unaccomplished.

He never married.

He never had kids.

He never did anything other than drain himself dry for his hospital until one day, he found himself in one of his own hospital beds, being looked upon by his favourite healer.

"It's nothing magic can fix, Harry." his voice was nothing more then a whisper as he took a seat beside Harry's bed.

Harry had picking at his nails, sitting cross legged atop his blanket in the bright room. The skin around his nail beds began bleeding and he just kept digging deeper, peeling away more skin. He took in a heavy breath and looked at the man. His green eyes haven't blazed with emotion in a long time.

"What is it then?"

A muscle twitched in the healer's jaw as he clenched his teeth, unwilling to answer. He averted his eyes.

"What is it?" Harry persisted, voice quiet in the small room.

A silence began to draw out between them as Harry Potter stared down the man who held his records. It was a heavy silence, a ' _please dont make me say it_ ' silence.

"Adrian." Though tired, Harry's voice was firm.

Finally, the man broke, and his voice cracked as he spoke, "It's some stupid muggle thing. Really rare in wizards, sir. Something called cancer. I got in contact with a muggle doctor to look more into it and they told me it was stage 4 and not curable."

Halfway through the explanation, Harry's brain shut down. His vision blurred at the edges and a weight started pressing heavy on his chest. After everything he has been through, everything he has survived, everything he has seen and done and cured and solved, he's getting done in by cancer? Seriously?

What's fair about that?

It progressed fast, after that.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry i'm sorry imsorryimsorrymso-"

Harry gripped Draco's hand with all the strength he could muster from his fragile body. It stopped Draco's fumbling words in a heartbeat, and he glanced up, eyes burning and blurry behind his tears. White knuckled and ragged breath, Draco's bottom lip trembled. He's become soft in his old age, become soft from raising kids.

Hot green eyes stare back at him from the sunken skin of Harry's ghostly face. His voice is hoarse as he speaks and his lips crack, "What are you sorry for?"

What was Draco sorry for?

"I didn't get cancer because of you."

What was Draco apologizing to Harry for?

"You don't need to say sorry for anything."

Tears pour over Draco's eyes as he stares at Harry's fragile frame. He want's to say so much. He wants to tell Harry so much.

They haven't seen each other in 30 some years.

He wants to tell Harry he has a kid that's a spitting image of him, right down to the freckles that bloom across his face in the summer. He wants to tell him that his first born's middle name is Harry. He want's to tell him that not a day goes by that he doesn't see Harry in Astoria. He want's to tell him that they never once slept in the same bed, not even after conceiving their children. He wants to tell him that he always saved the space beside him in his bed for him. He want's to tell him that his daughter taught him how to play their song on all the instruments she knows. He wants to tell him that he's had a gaping hole in his soul that was never filled and Astoria has had so many affairs because he couldn't look at her, ever.

Instead, he just apologizes again, and his silver eyes are dull behind the tears.

Harry's eyes flutter shut. Maybe, he can feel the weight behind those words. Maybe he still knows Draco so perfectly after all these years that he understand what Draco is really apologizing for.

"I'm so sorry, Harry"

His green eyes flutter open again, and the question stands true in Harry's eyes. Sorry for what?

Sorry for being so young and stupid as to follow his parents orders? Sorry for saying those vows to someone else? Sorry for marrying someone who looked exactly like you but wasn't? Sorry for leaving, sorry for forgetting, sorry for waking up every other night in a cold sweat because I still dream of you, sorry for not seeing you in the back row of my wedding, sorry for continuing my blood line with someone else. Sorry for letting someone else live in our apartment. 

Sorry for watching you walk away, and not chasing after you.

Draco can't say it out loud. 

A smile cracks Harry's lips as he turns his head a bit toward Draco, "One last time?" He asks, "For old times sake?"

His breath is getting stuck in his his throat, but Draco still manages to gasp out, "I love you."

Harry Potter passed away holding Draco Malfoy's hand, thinking about what could have been his life in the past 30 years.

_I'm sorry for walking away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but harry is


End file.
